


Alabaster

by Bearfeat



Series: Spectrum [2]
Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6888565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearfeat/pseuds/Bearfeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time we, well, fucked, was within ten minutes after we met. Emeritus had spotted me drawing beers for his fans from the stage, and decided he wanted me as an after-ritual delight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alabaster

**Author's Note:**

> The story of how the main character and Emeritus 'met'. This story is mentioned in my work Maroon. I felt like I needed to zoom in on it some more :)

‘My darling...’ Emeritus’ hot breath made the skin on my face crawl. ‘I want you. And I’ll have you, if you’ll let me.’

 

The first time we, well, _fucked_ , was within ten minutes after we met. Emeritus had spotted me drawing beers for his fans from the stage, and decided he wanted me as an after-ritual delight. Of course, I was flattered.

That did not mean I was good at being a groupie. Shivery, I had taken his masked face in my hands and placed a kiss on the black-and-white painted silicone. He had grinned at me.

‘You’re a Ghouleh’ he had whispered in my ear. I remember wondering whether my knees were going to hold my weight. I leaned heavily against the wall. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say back anymore.

 

His lips were on my neck. His tongue was in my ear. A hand had worked its way inside my pants. He looked up at feeling how incredibly wet I was.

‘Darling…’ he said teasingly, rolling his ‘r’. ‘I thought you were going to play hard to get!’

‘I… tried.’ I heaved. It had been a while since I was last touched like this. Two fingers had entered me and were arching against my g-spot.

‘Fuck!’ I cursed. ‘Oh shit, yes!’ I clawed my hands in his shoulders and he started to roughly move his hand between my legs: his fingers pounding inside me, his palm heavily rubbing my clit. That was fucking intense.

I clenched my jaw and grunted hard as my heels lifted off the floor. My legs started to tremble. I threw my head back and it painfully slammed into the wall, but I didn't care, because a more powerfull feeling lit up inside me. My whole body contracted around his touch. This was no orgasm. This was… this was….

 

‘The power of Satan is compelling, indeed.’ He released me. I could breathe evenly again. He brought his right hand to his face, and we both watched how the light shimmered on his wet middle and ring finger. He slightly stuck out his tongue as he brought the fingers to his lips, and then sucked them clean.

My one true weakness. Men who savored my taste.

 

As soon as he had pulled out his fingers, I lapped my tongue over his lips, and again, until his met mine. There was some hot, open-mouthed tonguing that made my cunt ache before he pressed his lips against mine and the kiss deepened. He smelled like the stage. I felt the sweat on his back, pressing through his costume. I smelled the theatrical smoke in the fabric. Too soon, he pulled back.

 

He caressed my face and hair with both hands. His green eye was sparkling tenaciously. Slowly, he moved his hands down to my breasts and ran the thumbs over my nipples until they were hard and poking through my shirt. Then, he ran his hands down further. He knelt as he hooked his fingers in the hem of my pants and pulled it down, my underwear trailing along. He looked up to make me lift up a foot with his gaze, allowing him to remove a leg along with my sock and shoe. He repeated this with my other leg. I stopped to realise I was standing bare-assed in the dressing room of Papa Emeritus III. Odder things had probably happened to me before, but I could not recall a single one of them at that moment.

 

He stood up and moved a hand behind my knee. I arched my leg, and he placed the foot on the armrest of the couch beside us. That’s how he spread me open to him. I wasn’t nervous anymore.

I pulled him back for a new kiss, and grabbed at his crotch. He sighed when my hand closed over his erection through the fabric and I grabbed it more tightly. The pupil of his green eye was blown wide when I told him ‘give it to me.’

 

 

Slowly, he pushed in. I grabbed his shoulders for balance, but he took my wrists and pinned them against the wall. He moved his hips back and thrusted in again, grazing past all the tender spots inside me, pushing in as deep as our bodies let him. I let out an oppressed moan through my teeth again.

‘No, baby, no’ Papa said in a deep voice, focused breathing.

‘Let it out. Let me hear you!’ I unclenched my jaw a little.

‘Let me hear it if I’m fucking you right!’ he hissed. I yelped as he started to thrust into me harder.

‘Ah!’

‘That’s more like it.’ He grunted as he fucked me against the wall. He dropped my arms and pulled my hips forward, so that he could hold my waist with one arm, giving him more leverage. He slapped my ass.

‘Yes!’ I called. ‘Fuck, yes!’ he roared approvingly and slapped me again. Then, he worked the hand under my T-shirt, cupping a breast so tightly my shoulder blades pressed firmly against the wall.

 

I was locked in his grip. One arm tight around my waist, one hand pressing my upper body to the wall. He was stronger than he looked. I felt like I couldn’t move anywhere, even if I tried to. Still, this tight grip made me feel completely safe.

Emeritus moaned loudly as he thrusted into me again and again. As he breathed sharply into my ear, my mind started to drift and my insides filled up with a warm light.

‘I… I’m gonna’ I squealed. I grinded my teeth as my orgasm hit me, but just in time I remembered he wanted to _hear_ me. I made sounds I never thought I wanted to make.

Just as the high wave of my climax started to fade, Emeritus pounded harder and managed to trust deeper inside me, irregularly, as his own climax was about to crash through him. He hit my cervix hard and I came again. I trembled on my shivering legs, but he held me tightly squeezed between himself and the wall as he pushed in one last time, sending one last jolt of electricity through me, before spilling himself in me.

 

He pulled out and I put my foot down on the floor. The leg I had been standing on the whole time was trembling with exertion. We panted, saturated, and I hung my head. Instinctively, he put his sweaty forehead against mine.

‘ _Bella_ …’ he whispered when he had caught his breath. I felt a smile dance over my face. I didn't expect that whas the word that was going to give me goosebumps tonight.

A hand came up to stroke my cheek. He angled his head and kissed me softly above my brow.

‘Thank you for that.’ He whispered.

‘Thank _you_.’ I said.

 

 

Before I could really grasp that all of that had actually happened to me, from the bearded roadie taking me backstage on Emeritus’ orders, to the latter tying my shoes after demanding he’d dress me back up, I was back outside his dressing room door.

‘I’ll find you.’ he said, adamant, and I laughed. I laughed, because Little Did I Know.

**Author's Note:**

> I leave this note almost a year after I posted this, but I wanted to say that the bearded roadie was based on an actual guy I saw at my first ritual. I only now realize he wasn't a roadie, but Billy Vanilla the merch guy.


End file.
